


Keep My Eyes On You

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Kink, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Gangbang, IN SPACE!, M/M, Multi, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The man in the swing has his eyes closed, his lower lip is pulled between his teeth, and the expression on his face looks positively blissful. His stomach is already smeared with come, but at the moment his dick is soft, lolling against his thigh as his body is rocked by the efforts of the guy fucking into him.





	Keep My Eyes On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaiosea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiosea/gifts).



> There was honestly more than one of your prompts I considered, but this idea won out. Sadly I didn't have the time to write a second gift, and I had to cut this one a bit short, too, but hey, maybe later? I might even come back to this one and rework it at some point, if I feel like it, which is why it's in the anon collection for the time being. But in the meantime, this should work as a complete gift, and I hope the short version pleases regardless!

Shona's eyes sting a little when he marches off the shuttle. He's gotten used to interplanetary travel, this is far from his first trip to the outer colonies, but the artificial light in a spaceship just can't measure up to natural sunlight and the journey way out here is always so long. Standing on the ramp of the shuttle, he stretches his arms out over his head, bending this way and that, and blinks at the late afternoon sun. He opted for a blind trip this time, so the first thing he looks around for are any indicators of where exactly he landed. It's an incredible luxury to just hire a shuttle and let his personal pilot pick a place at random, and Shona knows his father might yell at him, later, once he's seen the bill. But that doesn't matter much right now, and anyway, during his internship in the financial department he saw that they're doing even better than his mother always brags about to her friends. He could keep traveling year-round, never go home at all, and it still wouldn't rip even the tiniest hole in his family's fortune. 

Enough wallowing, though. He's light-years away from home, from his parents, from the company that is his birthright to lead should his father eventually pass. He strolls off the ramp and waits for his universal translator to decode the writing on the spaceport's signboards. 

Arlon IV. Huh. He's heard some rumors about this place, well-off for a colony at the edges of the inhabited universe, one of the first to be established this far away from Earth, and set in its ways. The colony had hundreds of years to develop its own culture, its own traditions, and while it's famed for its hospitality, not many people venture out here for a holiday. 

Shona grins. This promises to be even more exciting than he'd hoped. He hits a button on the communicator at the edge of the ramp, calling up the pilot. “Good choice. You can put the ship into stealth mode while I'm gone and go mingle yourself, if you like.” 

Her voice filters back through the intercom, a little tinny, but nevertheless seeming in good spirits. “Thanks, boss. Have fun!” 

As he walks away, he turns to see the ship's hull glimmer in the sun, then flicker, and at last blend into the background of the near-empty spaceport. Shona doubts stealth is really needed in a place like Arlon IV, but, better save than sorry. If he loses this ship and needs to call up another to pick him up, his father is _definitely_ going to yell at him. 

His VIP passport grants him preferential treatment in customs, and in less than twenty minutes, he's out on the streets of Torvar, Arlon IV's capitol. Calling it a city would be overstating things, and yet it's fairly busy, what with being the central marketplace for the entire colony. He's not interested in big city life, anyway, though; he can have that at home. 

He considers calling up a taxi and asking for a tour around the colony and decides against it. That would make him a spectator, a tourist. The rich kid on holiday. He takes these trips to be something else, someone else, and that works much better if he blends in and keeps his head down. Bus station it is, then. Hover buses are standard, even out here. He calls up a timetable and walks to the station that has the next scheduled arrival. Doesn't matter where he's going; the names of the stops and destinations don't mean anything to him. 

The bus is almost empty and Shona opts for a seat in the last row, toes his shoes off, and curls up near the window with his legs folded underneath him. The even hum of the bus soon lulls him to sleep. 

 

***

 

“Hey, buddy,” a loud voice wakes him some hours later, sounding annoyed, and a hand lands on his shoulder. “End of the line. Naptime's over.” 

Shona peers out of the window to see that it's nearly dark out, the bright sunlight from earlier now a dim, washed-out orange twilight. He groans, rubs his eyes, and turns to wave a placating hand at the... he assumes it's the bus driver, or an orderly getting wayward passengers off the bus before it returns to the capital. 

“Sure, sure,” Shona slurs, voice still thick with sleep. He sorts his limbs, displeased to find that his legs are tingling with pins and needles. Ugh. He stretches them out and stands, unsteady. 

The sneering look the bus guy gives him speaks volumes; he considers Shona to be a drunken drifter. Shona doesn't bother correcting him, just waves a hand at him again, this time in goodbye, and exits the bus. 

The area he finds himself in is somewhat rural, though not full-on countryside. Behind him there's forests and fields, sure, but ahead of him lies a decently-sized town. Maybe an hour's walk, if that. Some stretches and he's good as new, awake, refreshed, and reckons he'll reach the town by nightfall. 

He's about halfway there when he happens upon a small cluster of people by the side of the road, chatting and laughing, music playing in the background. Not loud enough, however, to cover the sound of moans and flesh hitting flesh that comes from within the group, and, admittedly, Shona's curiosity is piqued. He approaches, pleasantly surprised that instead of getting shooed away as a stranger, people let him wriggle in between them so he can see what it is they're all looking at. 

And, well. The sight that greets him isn't at all what he expected. 

A young man, about Shona's own age, is laid out completely naked on some kind of swing, ankles tied to his thighs, and both men and women are crowed around him. One guy is between his legs, fucking him hard enough that his whole body sways in the swing with every thrust. Two women have their hands curled around his cock, jerking him off. Several others are just... touching him, hands roaming everywhere. 

The man in the swing has his eyes closed, his lower lip is pulled between his teeth, and the expression on his face looks positively blissful. His stomach is already smeared with come, but at the moment his dick is soft, lolling against his thigh as his body is rocked by the efforts of the guy fucking into him. 

And he's beautiful: a slim but muscled body, delicate features framed by slightly curly, dark blond hair. His chest is flushed to a bright pink with pleasure, and he radiates enjoyment, ecstasy, not a hint of discomfort or resistance. Shona finds himself spellbound, inching forward through the crowd, pulled forward like a magnet that finally found its matching pole. 

Just as he reaches the man in the swing, the guy that had been fucking him moans and snaps his forward one last time, coming, and after a moment of stillness he steps away, wiping sweat of his brow, murmuring words of gratitude. The blond opens his eyes – a piercing blue, Shona notes – and nods with a wide smile. Then he seems to notice Shona. 

“You're not from here,” he says, his voice just a little raw. Like he's been screaming out his pleasure for hours, like he's taken a fair number of cocks into his mouth, as well – Shona clears his throat and has to readjust himself in his pants. The blond notices, gaze traveling down Shona's body, and rises an appreciative brow. “What's your name?” 

“Shona.” Giving his real name is something he usually avoids, but his brain isn't exactly working overtime right now, and besides, this far out no one's likely to keep up with gossip about the company head's rebellious twenty-something son. “I'm Shona.” 

“Hello Shona.” Another radiant smile, and Shona smiles back automatically. “I'm Finn. Come here.” 

He wraps one hand into the sling of the swing for leverage and extends the other towards Shona, beckoning. 

Shona follows. Of course he does; he must. Reaching down to undo the fly of his pants he steps between the vee of Finn's bound legs, and he can't decide whether the thought of all the other man that must have had Finn before, here, today, laid out for everyone who wants him, is something better ignored or something that turns him on further. He reaches down to run his thumb over Finn's rim, red and swollen and slick, and Finn moans. 

“Please,” he breathes out, eyes fluttering shut once again. “Please, more.” 

Rather more of a turn-on, Shona decides. He hooks one arm into hollow of Finn's knees to hold him in place. Finn is loosened up enough that Shona can slide home in one long, easy shove, and they both moan in unison as he bottoms out. He fucks into him with short, hard thrusts at first, until he gets a feeling for Finn's body, the first rush of arousal receding, allowing him to pay closer attention to Finn's reactions. He adjusts his angle according to what makes Finn moan louder, grip the sling of his swing tighter. With pride and satisfaction, he notes that Finn's cock is filling again. He debates whether he wants to touch him, jerk him in concert with his thrusts, or fuck him to completion on his dick alone. 

That's not a choice he gets to make, though – he momentarily forgot that they're not alone. Someone else bends over the swing and takes Finn's cock into her mouth, licks off the precome starting to pearl up at the tip. Finn keens, body contracting around Shona's dick, and Shona has to screw his eyes shut for a moment to keep from coming on the spot. 

He opens them again to a guy having shown up by Finn's head, gently turning his head so he can claim Finn's mouth. Finn mewls happily and curls his tongue around the guy's dick, playing at the head, and moans in approval when the guy pushes himself into Finn's mouth to the hilt instead, roughly fucking his throat. 

And that's too much. With one more, artless and erratic thrust, Finn comes, hips flying forward so he, himself, can bury himself into Finn down to the root. Finn screams with pleasure, and the woman who had been sucking him off retreats just before Finn's own orgasm hits, come merely trickling from his slit; he's likely come too many times already for anything more. 

Shona pulls out, panting heavily, and his breath catches when he sees his own seed dribble from Finn's well-used hole, down his taint, joining the mess made by others before him. 

He steps back, dazed, but he doesn't leave. He stays. He watches countless others fuck, touch, suck, lick, watches Finn welcome and take them all, watches his pleasure ebb and coalesce time and time again. He stays until the very end, when the sun is already rising in the horizon and the crowd thins, when most others have already gone home. 

 

***

 

“Had fun, boss?” the pilot asks upon his return, and Shona smiles to himself, his spine tingling with the memories of the night, of kissing Finn one last time, taking one last glance back as he left. 

“Yeah,” Shona confirms. “We'll be coming back here, surely.”


End file.
